and turned away the moment I felt my face start to heat. “Fine,” I threw at him, reaching for my casual demeanor. “If you’re too prideful to accept help, then I won’t offer.” I sat myself back down on my stool and tried to look like I’d won the argument even though I obviously hadn’t.
“Thank you,” he said with a little bow, then went back to the cutting board.
It turned out he really didn’t need my help. He did just fine with me calling out instructions to him, and I loved seeing the grin on his face when he presented my plate to me.
“Mmm,” I said as I took my first bite. “Well done, my friend.” I tapped my fork and knife together in applause.
“Thanks for taking the time to show me how it’s done,” he said as he dug into his own food.
“So, what do you suppose people would say if they knew I had domesticated Sean Amity?”
He just grinned at my quip and took another bite.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I came out of my room in an unmistakably pouty mood, groaning as I pulled my robe over my belly and frowned my way toward my fridge.
“Is your hip acting up again?”
I turned to find Sean on my couch with a notebook and pen. Writing lyrics, no doubt. “It’s fine. And what are you doing in my house?”
He shrugged. “You gave me a key for a reason.”
“I’m not sure the reason was for you to lurk in my living room while I sleep.”
He just smiled, apparently entertained by my grouchiness. “So why are you moaning and groaning so early in the morning?”
I pulled my bottom lip up and furrowed my brow, feeling petulant. I didn’t want to tell him my stupid reasons, but my need to complain won out. “Nothing fits me anymore!”
One eyebrow rose sky-high.
“Shut up,” I said, even though he hadn’t said anything. “Apparently it was very naïve of me to expect that only my belly would expand. But no. Everything is expanding.” I’d bought a bunch of new clothes a couple months ago. Flowy, loose tops and lots of leggings, but I had underestimated how much bigger I would get. Classic first-time mistake.
He gave me an amused but compassionate look. “You’re growing a human, Libby. What did you expect?”
I just glared at him.
“Don’t they have clothes specially designed for amazing women who grow humans?”
I frowned at the floor and folded my arms over my robe. “They’re called maternity clothes.”
“See? Why don’t you go get some of those?”
I turned away from him and yanked open the fridge. “I don’t want to.”
“Why not? You like shopping.”
I got the milk out and raided the pantry for cereal. It was an avoidance tactic. Because I couldn’t admit that the very act of shopping for and purchasing maternity clothes felt monumental. It was something that I shouldn’t have to do—not on my own. Jonas should have been there, telling me I looked cute and then picking out the ugliest thing he could find and trying to get me to try it on.
Sean moved over to sit at the kitchen counter. I could feel his eyes on me as I methodically poured myself a bowl of cereal.
“Hey, Libby?”
“Hm?”
“So, are you okay…financially?”
I looked up and my glare said, Did you really just ask me that?
His hands came up in surrender. “I know. I know. We don’t talk about money. I’m not allowed to help out, or offer to pay for stuff. But this is different. I should be able to ask in these circumstances.”
Maybe he had a point. Plenty of widows were left destitute. I sighed out my resignation. “I’m fine, Sean. I have a job that you see me go to every day, and Jonas had”—breathe—”great life insurance.”
“Okay. I won’t ask again.”
“Thank you.”
“You look beautiful, by the way.”
My glare was back. I had bed head and was wearing a robe over sloppy pajamas, and I’d done nothing but frown and glare all morning.
Once again, he raised his hands in surrender. “Hey. It’s not my fault you’re always gorgeous.”
“Shut up,” I muttered, taking my bowl to the table where I could sit on a padded chair.
“You mind if I grab something to eat?”
“Please do. I’m surprised you bothered asking, what with your home invasion act this morning.”
“I’m happy to knock from now on.”
“Don’t bother.” I didn’t actually care if he came in. It was almost comforting, but I still had to give him a hard time about it, because I was me and he was him.